


i'm blind and waiting for you

by notquiteaghost



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, grantaire and the terrible horrible no good very bad day, sappy boys are sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-09
Updated: 2013-06-09
Packaged: 2017-12-14 11:19:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/836315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notquiteaghost/pseuds/notquiteaghost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire is having one of Those Days.</p><p>One of Those Days, where lots of irritating and insignificant things - that, on their own, would be only mildly annoying at best - keep happening and happening and happening, until it all piles up and Grantaire explodes. Or bursts into tears. Or curls up in a ball and refuses to move ever again. Or all three.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'm blind and waiting for you

**Author's Note:**

> title is from 'big machine' by the goo goo dolls. for [this](http://makinghugospin.livejournal.com/13289.html?thread=9438441#t9464297) kink meme prompt.

Grantaire is having one of Those Days.

One of Those Days, where lots of irritating and insignificant things - that, on their own, would be only mildly annoying at best - keep happening and happening and happening, until it all piles up and Grantaire explodes. Or bursts into tears. Or curls up in a ball and refuses to move ever again. Or all three.

He'd woken up this morning to find that his coffee machine has finally given up the ghost, and that, somehow, somewhere, a pipe burst during the night, and his shower now no longer functions. Then he'd spent almost an hour calling, interchangeably, his landlord and several plumbers, until eventually someone told him that they'd have it fixed within the week, meaning he potentially doesn't have a working shower for seven whole days. 

This meant he was late to work, meaning his boss spent ten minutes lecturing him on responsibility and punctuality and seriously, he doesn't like his boss on the best of days. And he spent the rest of his shift snappy and short-tempered because of it, until Eponine got sick of him and they ended up screaming at each other in the break room. 

To recap: he's woefully under-caffeinated, he hasn't got a working shower, he's going to have to forgo replacing the coffee machine because he has to choose between coffee and his shower, if he's late to work once more before the end of the month he's out of a job, and Eponine's pissed at him.

And then, upon his return home, he got a phone call from his mother, who was as delightful as ever, and called him worthless no less than four times in a twenty-minute conversation. And asked him if he'd 'found a nice girl' to 'settle down with' yet. And complained about the marriage equality protests. And offhandedly insulted his sister.

And now he's just discovered he's out of that really expensive paint he can only find in that one shop forty minutes drive away, so there goes his plans to get a couple of commissions done before tonight's meeting. 

Feeling incredibly frustrated at the world as a whole, and certain choice people in particular, he grabs his sketchpad and his iPod and heads to the Musain three whole hours early, because if he doesn't get his hands on some coffee soon, he's going to scream.

\---

Enjolras, for the first time in possibly ever, is running late to the meeting.

It's not his fault, of course. There are roadworks, meaning road closures, meaning changes to the bus route, and no one thought to inform him of any of this, meaning he didn't leave early to compensate.

Meaning it's ten minutes since they should have started, and he's only just now walking through the door.

He's created immediately by Combeferre, who frowns at him worriedly and asks if he's okay. Enjolras waves him off, sitting down at a table with Courfeyrac and Feuilly and sorting through various leaflets, letting the others continue to do their own thing for a few minutes longer whilst he gets everything sorted.

Something is off, though, and barely five minutes have passed before he's frowning to himself and glancing around. Everyone is here, so that's not it. No one's crying, or arguing, or otherwise causing a scene, so that's not it either. Except Grantaire, who is usually deep in discussion with someone or other at this point, is curled up in the corner with his sketchbook and a thunderous look on his face.

Enjolras' frown deepens. He's not sure he's ever seen Grantaire look that pissed, and he's seen Grantaire on the phone to his parents.

"Do you know what's wrong with Grantaire?" Enjolras asks.

But Feuilly shakes his head, and Courfeyrac shrugs. 

"It looks like a bad day of epic proportions." Courfeyrac says, "He apparently had a row with Eponine earlier, and that never happens, so..." He trails off, shrugging again.

Enjolras nods, staring at Grantaire for another few moments before shaking himself out of it. If Grantaire needs something, he knows how to ask, and the chances of him asking Enjolras, of all people, are slim at best. Better to focus on the meeting and ask Jehan to check on him later.

The meeting. Right. He shakes his head again, missing Courfeyrac's worried look, and stands up, calling the room to attention.

"So, as you're no doubt aware, the House of Commons is voting on an anti-same sex marriage bill..."

\---

Grantaire, for once in his life, tunes out most of the meeting. Usually, he's hanging on Enjolras' every word, but today, he hardly notices that Enjolras is talking.

Instead, he spends his time drawing his mother get murdered in several creative and varied ways. 

Then, once the meeting comes to an end and the group goes exactly nowhere, because they're all nerds who spend far too much of their time in this cafe, Enjolras appears at Grantaire's side.

Grantaire only notices because he's blocking out all the light.

"Can I help you?" Grantaire says, raising an eyebrow. Enjolras doesn't usually talk to him. At least, not without reason, and not without encouragement, and not of his own free will. Why would he? It's not like Grantaire's anything special.

"Are you okay?" Enjolras asks.

Grantaire blinks. "Yeah, I'm fine. Did you want something?"

"You don't look fine." Enjolras says.

Which, okay, that's probably a valid point. But Grantaire isn't actually capable of having a civil discussion today (see: the earlier Eponine incident), so his knee-jerk reactions is to snap, "I think I know my own emotions, thank you very much."

Enjolras looks taken aback, and he frowns as he says, "Look, if something's wrong, there's no point in pretending--"

"Oh, don't you start." Grantaire says, low and spiteful. "I don't care about your hero complex, okay? I don't need your help, nor do I want it. I'm _fine_."

"You're not being very convincing." Enjolras says. He's still frowning, his expression caught somewhere between worry and confusion. It's not something that Grantaire would usually find annoying, but Grantaire is so close to just breaking into tiny little pieces, right in front of anyone, he doesn't care. Anything Enjolras says is, currently, inherently annoying, just because it's Enjolras saying it.

"Do you want a goddamn power-point presentation?"

"I want to help."

"And I want you to fuck off!" Grantaire shouts, standing up sharply. The rest of the room falls instantly silent, probably because Grantaire's never actually shouted at anyone before. He's just crossed a line, and everyone knows it. It probably says something about the mood he's in, that he doesn't even care.

And Enjolras is _still_ frowning at him. "R--"

"No!" Grantaire shouts. He's really warming up to the shouting. It's surprisingly cathartic. "No, fuck you! I have had the world's _worst_ day, I do not need your shit on top of everything else! You can take your concern and go fuck yourself with it, because God knows I don't want it!"

But Enjolras is just standing there, looking oddly expectant and... fond? "Are you finished?"

Grantaire stares at him, mouth open, so furious he's actually beyond words, for a long moment, before turning and storming out. 

\---

After the door slams shut behind Grantaire, silence reigns for another minute or so, and then Courfeyrac says, "You're not going after him, are you?"

Enjolras frowns at him. "Of course I am. I'm not leaving him alone in this state, did you see how worked up he is?"

"...Yes." Courfeyrac says slowly, "Which is why I thought you might want to let him cool off. Surely another argument is the last thing you want right now."

"That wasn't an argument." Enjolras dismisses. "That was him using me as a replacement for everything's that's gone wrong for him today. He doesn't mean it, and I know he doesn't mean it. I'd rather know he's burnt it all out where I can see him, than let him go off and get into a bar fight somewhere."

Courfeyrac doesn't reply, and neither does anyone else, so Enjolras grabs Grantaire's sketchbook and sets after him.

He finds him in the park a few blocks away from the Musain, sat on a bench and staring at his hands. Enjolras sits down next to him, and he jumps.

"Enjolras?" Grantaire asks, sounding confused. "What-- Why are you here?"

"I wanted to make sure you were okay." Enjolras says, simply. 

Grantaire still looks confused. "...Why?"

Enjolras sighs. He knows, logically, that Grantaire's opinion of himself is really quite atrocious, but that doesn't mean he has to like it. "Because you are my friend, and I don't actually like to see you this angry. I don't like to see you anything other than happy."

"Oh." Grantaire says. His voice is small and quiet, and Enjolras doesn't know what it means. Surely Grantaire knows he considers him a friend?

...Or maybe he doesn't. Considering his track record, and his thought processes, and his abysmal self-esteem, it wouldn't be surprising. And that makes Enjolras so, so angry, because Grantaire is _wondrous_ , Grantaire is one of the best artists and the kindest people that Enjolras has ever met, and he deserves everything he has and so much more, and he should _know_ that. He shouldn't have to be told that, he should know. He should believe that.

But, as much as he wishes it was, Grantaire's self-esteem isn't something Enjolras can single-handedly fix, especially not now, so he returns his focus to the matter at hand.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asks. Grantaire blinks at him, looking surprised. "Whatever put you in such a bad mood. Would talking about it help?"

"I mostly just want to forget it ever happened." Grantaire admits.

Nodding, Enjolras says, "We can do that, then." He stands up, then turns and looks expectantly at Grantaire. "Come on, you're coming back to mine and we're watching Would I Lie To You until you can't remember your name, let alone your shitty day."

"Is that a euphemism?" Grantaire asks, with a sly grin that lets Enjolras know things are looking up.

Enjolras rolls his eyes and pointedly starts walking. There's a beat, and then Grantaire catches up, falling into step beside Enjolras like he belongs there.

\---

It takes four episodes of Would I Lie To You for Grantaire to completely relax.

Which, if you ask him, is entirely understandable. He's in Enjolras' flat, for Christ's sake. He's in Enjolras' flat, and so is Enjolras, and so is no one else, and they're sitting on the sofa together, and Enjolras is warm. Enjolras is right there, and he's warm, and Grantaire has had the world's worst day, and he's still not entirely convinced he isn't hallucinating. Because this kind of thing just doesn't happen.

Enjolras said Grantaire is his _friend_. This has _got_ to be a dream.

So, yes, it takes him two whole hours to relax. Because he's waiting to wake up. Because, any minute now, he's going to wake up, and he'll be at home, in his bed, and none of this will have happened.

"Want to watch another one, or...?" Enjolras asks, when the credits of the fourth episode start. 

Grantaire shrugs. "Your call. It's getting kind of late--"

"It's half ten, R." Enjolras says, sounding bemused. "And it's not like you live far away. Besides, this is for your benefit."

"And I am crap at making decisions, so I'm saying that it's your call." Grantaire says, grinning despite himself. 

Enjolras opens his mouth to retort, but then doesn't say anything. Instead, he just stares at Grantaire, like Grantaire's anything worth looking at, until Grantaire starts to shift slightly under the weight of his gaze. 

"Please don't hate me." is what he eventually says, and Grantaire has a few seconds to be confused about that, because _what_ , and then Enjolras is leaning forward and kissing him.

Enjolras. Is kissing. Grantaire.

Grantaire freezes, because this is not what he was expecting, not now and not ever, and he has no idea how to react to this. Enjolras, however, seems to take that as a no and starts to pull away, which, no, Grantaire isn't allowing that. If Enjolras is going to kiss Grantaire, it's going to be more than a quick press of lips. To make sure of this, Grantaire makes a protesting noise and threads his fingers through Enjolras' hair, pressing their mouths back together.

Enjolras hums happily, and his lips are really soft, and then he's biting at Grantaire's bottom lip and slipping his tongue into Grantaire's mouth and Grantaire is losing the capacity for coherent thought.

Enjolras is _kissing_ him.

Enjolras. Is kissing. _Him_.

They break apart after a while, when the urge to breathe becomes to great to ignore, and Grantaire has a moment to catch his breath and savour the taste of Enjolras' mouth and stare at Enjolras' kiss-red lips, and then Enjolras says, "That went better than I expected."

Grantaire boggles at him. "What were you expecting to happen?"

"Um, for you to shove me away and storm out?" Enjolras says, looking the most nervous Grantaire has ever seen him. 

Grantaire continues to boggle at him. "Why on earth would I do that?" He says, incredulous. "Jesus, E, have you _seen_ yourself? And, honestly, I thought it was common knowledge that I'm hopelessly head-over-heels in love with you."

"You're in love with me?"

"Um. Yeah." Grantaire says. Enjolras looks-- God, Enjolras looks _hopeful_. Grantaire is definitely dreaming. "You mean you didn't know?"

"I would have kissed you if I knew." Enjolras replies, matter of fact, like he isn't making Grantaire's every dream come true right now. 

"Right. Of course you would have, obviously, silly me."

"I'm in love with you too, you know." Enjolras adds, after a beat. "I mean, have you _seen_ yourself?"

Grantaire grins, unable to help himself. "I'm going to have to trust you on that one. Now, we can watch more TV if you really want to, but I for one would like to suggest making out instead. To make up for lost time."

"You make a very good argument." Enjolras says, returning Grantaire's grin and then wrapping a hand around Grantaire's jaw and pressing their lips back together.

Grantaire makes a happy noise, the happiest he's been all day. Really, this day couldn't get any better.

**Author's Note:**

> i am [here](http://idoubtthereforeimightbe.tumblr.com) on tumblr.


End file.
